


No time like the present

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint does what he wants and says screw you to magic, Frosthawk - Freeform, Loki's actually not a complete ass, M/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki had expected Clint to continue to fight against the magic; he hadn't expected that this would be the reason why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No time like the present

Clint had been the one to make the first move, though Loki had pondered the idea before. It was the night of their mission together in Germany. Barton had waited for Loki to come outside of their hideaway, desiring nothing more than to stay by his newfound master’s side. When the Jotun did come out in his altered clothing, Clint felt breathless. Loki had always presented himself as royalty (of course, the fact that he was raised as such affected his fashion decisions) but it was in the simple suit and scarf that Clint found him stunning. 

Loki shot him a smug smile as he approached his subordinate. “Well? Think they’ll let me in, Barton?” He asked as he stood tall and proud for all to see.

The agent found himself nodding and reaching out to gently play with the edge of the scarf before he remembered his place. Neither he nor Loki would have anything to gain if Clint ruined the gorgeous spectacle with the dirt that seemed to remain on his hands no matter how many times Loki ordered him to wash them.  “Sorry sir.” He mumbled as he pulled away, fully expecting a slap for his accidental insolence. _If only Tasha could see me now,_ He thought. _Forgetting myself and getting embarrassed… this is bad._ The archer already knew what was plaguing him and he knew there would only be a little more time before he acted upon his wishes.

Loki frowned but didn’t react more than that. There was no need to, seeing as Clint hadn’t gotten more than a few pieces of dirt on the beautiful (probably designer based scarf) and he had apologised. “It is forgivable, Barton.” He pardoned the shorter man who quickly looked up at him. 

They’d have to leave soon. It was almost time and they couldn’t sit still whilst SHIELD tracked them down.

“Come Barton, we must go.” Barton felt the power of the words, the command that kicked the magic into effect. He nodded and gripped his bow tighter in his left hand as they made their way to the area that Loki used for teleportations.

Clint knew they wouldn’t have a chance to speak after this. Loki had shared most of the plan with the archer, and while Clint had disagreed with it, he had had literally no choice but to go along with it. But he wasn’t going to let their last encounter be like this. Clint fought the magic that pulsated in his blood. His feet, the movements mechanically keeping him going, slowed down until he was barely moving at all. “Sir?” He inquired, catching Loki’s attention and the frown that came along with it. _He must be confused as to how I managed to stop the magic._ Clint deduced as he locked eyes with the demi-god.

“Yes, Barton?” Oh, that lovely impatient exasperation that richened Loki’s tone as he moved closer to his servant.

“Be careful.” Clint said with as much emotion as he could muster. It wasn’t much; Clint wasn’t one for emotion and the Tesseract had furthered that part of him. Yet it was obvious to Loki from the depths of the crystalline blue of his eyes that the man actually meant it. 

“You need not worry about me, Clint Barton.” It was one of the few times that he had spoken the archer’s first name. It sent pleasant shivers down his spine as he relaxed and nodded.

 _Well, there’s no time like the present._ Clint thought as he leaned up and forward, his lips barely brushing the cooler ones of the frost giant’s. It was quick and chaste and gentle and not at all how Clint expected it to be. He had predicted that he’d get some rise out of Loki, yet nothing came. He felt a twinge of pain at that realisation. “Sorry, sir.” He said with as much indifference and respect as he could muster before looking back down and stepping away from the otherworldly being. He walked ahead again, obeying his previous order, and as he made it out of Loki’s arm’s reach he felt satisfied in the knowledge that at least he wouldn’t regret never trying to see if the other felt the same. 

* * *

Loki never forgot what Clint had done, though he ordered the human to bury it so deep into his subconscious that he would forget it had happened if (and when) he no longer belonged to Loki. Loki would tell himself that he did it to stop Hawkeye from feeling sentiment, to stop him from making any mistakes whatsoever. The truth, however, which he tried to hide from himself (but slowly crept up when that woman played him for a fool and later on when he saw her muttering in Hawkeye’s ear), was that he wanted that little memory to himself. Loki wanted to be selfish with that moment. He wanted to secretly relive the joy of being loved and cared for by someone whenever he felt like he couldn’t go on without anyone knowing. And if it spared his little Hawk confusion, then so be it. 


End file.
